


The Dragonflight Coalitions

by Tanadin



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Blatant fix-it fic, Canon-Typical Violence, Dragons, Multi, The dragons got screwed over so here we are, The rating is largely for language because there's an awful lot of swearing, We fix things! With SCIENCE!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-15 19:08:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11812356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tanadin/pseuds/Tanadin
Summary: After the fall of Deathwing, the dragons were rendered sterile and nearly powerless. But getting information to the right people at the right time can make all the difference, and the ingenuity of dragons and mortals alike knows no bounds.One day, dozens of dragonflights will fly under the banner of the Dragonflight Coalitions.Before then, however, the secrets of the apexis crystals, Titan failsafes, and Nefarian's experiments must be uncovered before it's too late for dragonkind, and they fade away into legend.





	1. Prologue: Redeemers' Fall

Wrathion’s wings folded neatly along his back as he landed on the balcony leading into the main aerial entrance of Blackrock Mountain. His claws clicked on the smooth stone and his crimson eyes swept around to survey the other Earthwarders around him. A maroon drake landed beside him and mumbled a respectful greeting before heading off down the hallway. Wrathion was not far behind, passing several other dragons that stood to the side and chatted quietly while waiting for the meeting to draw closer. He towered over most of them, and he allowed himself a slightly smug smile as he thought of how he was older than any hybrid alive, at least chronologically. The Timewatchers were a bit tricky when it came to age, but it didn't matter.

His ears twitched at a passing comment from a side passage and he changed course, lightening his footsteps to remain hidden as he listened.

“I think that he’s crazy,” a female whispered, the sound of her voice indicating that she was in that awkward stage between drake and adult dragon. “All of the old Black Dragonflight are. Them and the Twilights.”

“The Infinite and Nightmare flights are no better,” a male hissed, the slight resonance to his voice betraying his Netherwing heritage. “They should all be put down. The Old Gods-”

“-can speak to us, too,” snapped a second male, this one a younger drake. “Look, just because Sabellian is off his rocker doesn't mean-”

Wrathion snarled and advanced forward, rounding the corner and startling the three smaller drakes. He half-spread his wings menacingly and bared his teeth, fully aware of how terrifying he could be between his crimson eyes and metal jaw.

“You will _not_ speak about my uncle that way,” he growled. “He is Wingleader of the Black Dragonflight for a reason.”

The navy drake bared his teeth and held his ground. “He is one of Deathwing’s sons! He earned the position through birth, not merit!”

“Josazan, shut your damn mouth,” the black nether drake hissed. “Wrathion isn't someone you want to fight with!”

The female drake- of the hematite flight, he noted- nodded vigorously.

Wrathion bared his teeth further. “I'd advise that all of you be quiet about things that you know nothing about. And learn to _respect_ those who could crush you in an instant.” He loomed over Josazan, making him finally slink back and curl his tail in fear.

“W-we’ll be going now,” the hematite drake stammered. “S-sorry, Wingsecond.”

Wrathion flicked his tail and the three drakes bolted, taking off further down the side passage. He snorted and turned back toward his goal, realizing with slight amusement that, had he come across such a conversation several decades ago, he would have severely punished them, with claws if not with followers. It felt odd not to have anyone following him, even now, but he supposed that he’d be sick of people around him soon enough.

He pushed open the heavy metal doors into a larger chamber, where Sabellian and Ebyssian were already waiting. Ebyssian gave him a nod before turning back to pay attention to a midnight dragon that was giving him a hushed and hurried report. Sabellian jerked his head in an indication for Wrathion to approach, the Apexis crystals around his neck clinking softly against his scales.

“What's going on?” Wrathion whispered, shooting a meaningful look at Ebyssian.

“Nothing good,” Sabellian replied, flicking his tail in agitation. “But I got a report this morning that made us call this meeting, and I doubt that one is any better news.”

A chill ran through Wrathion’s bones down into his claws. “What’s happened?”

Sabellian’s eyes bored into him, as they often did. “Some of the Redeemers were taken by the Old Gods. Several of the Wingleaders were among them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> But that's not for awhile, yet.
> 
> First, we have to go back, back to just after the fall of Deathwing, and see how we got here.
> 
> All will be explained in time.


	2. Chapter One: The Message

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Pyrocumulus is introduced, a message is delivered, and the scheming begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few things I want to go over before we begin:
> 
> -This is heavily inspired by KatieSkarlette's dragon-related fics. I highly recommend that you go and read those as they're really good and highly enjoyable. A lot of my headcanons were drawn from those, to the point where I don't know whether some things that appear in this fic are canon or headcanons I picked up from those fics. I don't mean to step on any toes by putting in shared/borrowed headcanons so I apologize if that happens.
> 
> -I'm trying to stick to canon to a certain degree (which is why it's not primarily canon characters doing the fixing, they're off doing whatever they were doing in canon) but there comes a point where things just don't line up. I'll probably get some things wrong accidentally (woops!) or purposefully (this IS a canon splitoff) so just be prepared for that to happen.
> 
> -I'm using OCs a lot. Pyrocumulus, the guild that gets this kicked off, is made entirely of OCs. There's a few reasons for their inclusion and spotlight (including the fact that most canon characters are busy) but really the only one I'm going to go into right now is that I wanted to write a fic where the dragons found a solution and I wanted my guild to be a part of that. I'm writing this for my and my guild's enjoyment, but I wanted to share it in the hopes that other people would enjoy it as well.
> 
> Later on we'll get some more canon characters involved, but really early on that's not an option. I'll include them as much as possible and try to keep all characters lore-friendly.
> 
> Now, on to the first chapter!

_ One week after the fall of Deathwing _

Along the mountains between Mulgore and the Barrens ran a ridge, naturally flat but flattened further by mortal races. Few trees clung to the hills as high as the ridge and only the birds bothered to occasionally frequent the area. To the immediate west lay the expansive plains of Mulgore, brimming with life. To the east rose the highest mountains of the range, and just beyond were the Barrens, where shamans and druids worked tirelessly to repair the damage done in the Shattering. 

Along this ridge were several buildings, some built into the cliffside and others left freestanding and overlooking the plains. In the center of the establishment rose a flagpole, displaying first the colors of the Horde and then a guild crest on the flag beneath. The crest itself was white, showing the image of a dragon on a black background. The edges of the flag were adorned with irregular purple ovals, as if suggesting links or chains. 

The guild crest, as well as the establishment on the ridge, belonged to the guild Pyrocumulus. Pyrocumulus had been officially established just before the Shattering, after the harrowing campaign in Northrend. It's leader was a tauren druid named Peesa, well-experienced in combat and quite frankly tired of Azeroth being threatened year after year. She seemed fairly unremarkable at first, unlike the rest of the guild, who were easily recognizable due to how  _ bizarre _ they all were. Peesa, however, could have been just anyone on first glance until one noticed the red whelp following not far behind. 

Vyalastrasza had been found even before the Dark Portal reopened. She nor Peesa discussed the circumstances of their meeting often. Her reason for staying with Pyrocumulus was often questioned and even less often answered, but it could be gleaned that Vyalastrasza saw Peesa as an adoptive mother after losing her own to an attack by a corrupted black dragon. 

Vyalastrasza was not the only whelp in Pyrocumulus’ care, but she was the oldest, and took her job very seriously. She had spent a lot of time keeping the other whelps in line as most of Pyrocumulus had been out battling Deathwing and his forces. At least one guild member was at base at all times, but it was usually someone less familiar with whelp care. Usually it was Khalad, who did his best but was quite young himself. He had improved shortly before Deathwing’s fall, and only because a mature blue dragon now resided in his head. Only Peesa could really be called an expert, wielding knowledge that she had gleaned from several broodmothers, including Alexstrasza and Ysera in brief moments between disasters. 

It was, in fact, Ysera that contacted Peesa a week after Deathwing’s fall, with a message that would change dragonkind forever, even if she did not yet know it. 

The dreams of a druid occasionally wander into the outermost recesses of the Emerald Dream, flitting between the boughs of verdant trees and catching sight of strange but oddly familiar shapes beyond the leaves. Peesa was caught in one such dream, sleeping deeply to catch up on missed rest from the aftermath of Deathwing’s fall. 

She must have been in bird form, she thought, as she slipped between the branches and through the air easily without any need for support. Leaves tickled her wings and she laughed, feeling a quiet hum of joy throughout her body. She hadn't been here for months if not a year, as she’d gotten so little sleep and hadn't felt relaxed when she did. 

She paused, suddenly, catching sight of a night elf. The elf winked and vanished through the leaves, Peesa not far behind. As she burst through the greenery, however, she found herself in the middle of an empty field with no trees in sight. A towering green dragon rested on the grass, but glanced up as she approached. 

“Peesa,” Ysera said, smiling slightly. “I have a message for you.”

Peesa bowed, then sat at a motion from Ysera, wondering when exactly she had shifted forms from bird to tauren. Ysera lowered her head and shrank in size, leaving an elf sitting where she had been moments before. Even in this form, she was unnatural, an air of majesty hanging around her that elves simply did not have.

“What is it that you wish to tell me?”

“It is of the dragonflights’ greatest sorrow. The Aspects- the  _ ex- _ Aspects- convened and agreed to not tell the mortal races, not yet, for we still hold out hope that it might not be true, despite what the bronzes say. Nozdormu, however, sought me out and requested that I bring this to your attention, specifically.” Ysera shifted uncomfortably, a shroud of unease hanging around her. “The five dragonflights have been rendered sterile,” she said finally, “and the eggs and whelps we have now are the last of the last.”

A pit opened up in Peesa’s stomach. Her heart dropped from her chest down through the pit and into the earth below as her eyes widened and jaw fell slightly slack in shock.

_ How could this happen? _

The dragons were immortal, indestructible. They were mighty and prolific, only felled by their own or by overwhelming odds. How could they be destroyed from within this way, doomed to wither from the ravages of time and misfortune?

“Lady Ysera, I- I…”

“I know, child.” Ysera’s eyes locked with Peesa’s, a light of desperation hidden well behind her usual veil of calm. She seemed to search Peesa for answers, seeking a solution that she simply didn’t have. “I… suppose we simply must do what we can to prepare the world to continue as it can without us. We must prepare the mortals adequately to inherit Azeroth.” She sighed. “I don’t know why Nozdormu wished for you to know, but now you do. It is perhaps best if you do not tell everyone, but-”

“Can Pyrocumulus know?” Seeing Ysera’s eyebrow arch, Peesa amended, “My guild. We have several whelplings in our care, and they at least have the right to know.”

Ysera inclined her head and Peesa bowed from her sitting position.

“I don’t know why I have been told this, either, but it might be to try and find a solution.”

“I fear there is no solution, but we have not given up hope. Alexstrasza especially is unwilling to take this lying down.” Ysera got to her feet. “You may return to your dreaming, druid. I still have matters to attend to, as much as I would like to avoid them.”

Peesa nodded and closed her eyes, feeling the Dream slip away.

She had no intention to keep sleeping on this knowledge.

When she opened her eyes, it was to the sight of the stone roof of her home.

She sat up, dislodging Vyalastrasza from her chest onto her lap. She grumbled and buried her face in the blanket still covering Peesa’s legs, pulling her wings over her body.

“It’ssss not morning a’ready, is it?” Vyala groaned, wriggling unhappily as Peesa scooped her up in her hands.

“I don’t think so. You can keep sleeping, though.” Peesa got out of bed and placed Vyala back down, pulling the blanket over her and leaving a conspicuous lump in the bed.

“But you’re  _ warm.” _

“I know. But I need to talk to Jase about something important.”

“When you jus’ wake up?”

“Yes. Ysera visited me in the Emerald Dream.”

Vyala’s head popped up, lifting the blanket and forcing Peesa to stifle a laugh. “What? Why? She’s barely taken any notice of you before.”

“I know, it’s weird, but Nozdormu asked her to.”

“He  _ what?” _ Vyala got to her feet and shimmied out from underneath the blanket, looking up at Peesa accusingly. “Are you making things up to get me out of bed?”

“No, although that’s pretty clever and I’ll have to try it later.”

Vyala narrowed her eyes and launched herself up onto Peesa’s shoulder, claws digging painfully through the mageweave shirt.  _ I must have forgotten to change into pajamas last night. Oh well. _ “Can’t you move yourself?” She raised an eyebrow.

“No,” Vyala said smugly, “it’s too early.”

“You had no trouble flinging yourself across the room.” Peesa shook her head and made her way outside, double-checking that she was at least moderately presentable before stepping out of her cliffside home and into the dim light of early dawn. The sun hadn’t quite managed to climb over the eastern mountains yet, so it was still fairly dark and left the plains of Mulgore shrouded for another half-hour.

“That was the extent of my energy.” Vyala wiggled and got into a more comfortable position. “So what was this about Ysera and Nozdormu?”

“I’ll tell you when I tell Jase.”

“That’s not fair! I’m a dragon, I should know!”

“It’s why I’m telling you at all, you disobedient scamp.” Peesa shot her a fond look.

Vyala’s mouth dropped open in shock as Peesa began to move towards a building a ways down the ridge, just past the Pyrocumulus tavern and the flagpole. They stepped passed the curled form of Jorus, his arcane blue sides rising and falling evenly as he slept. “What are you talking about?”

“You ate all of the mana cakes Khalad made me.”

“They didn’t have your name on them!”

“They make you sick and you know it!”

“But they’re so  _ good!” _ Vyala wiggled unhappily and nearly fell off of Peesa’s shoulder, yelping and flapping her wings frantically to right herself. Peesa sighed and paused to let her get situated again, dealing with the repeated beatings to the back of her head until Vyala cleared her throat sheepishly. “I’m fine.”

“Are you?”

“Yes.”

Peesa rolled her eyes and continued walking, ignoring Vyala nagging her to explain what was going on with the fallen Aspects and  _ what Ysera had told her. _ She fortunately quieted when Peesa reached the door and knocked, waiting for a polite couple of minutes before it swung open to reveal a very grouchy-looking blood elf.

Jase was many things, but a morning person was absolutely not one of them.

Peesa hadn’t previously been aware that Jase, in fact, kept at least sixteen birds and a few rats in her hair when she wasn’t looking, but there she was, with the absolute worst hair that Peesa had ever seen on an elf in her entire life. Glowing green eyes stared out of a sleepy and angry face, the residual fel energies condensing and considering opening a portal to the nearest convenient Legion-dominated world. Before Jase could say anything too shocking in front of the whelpling, Peesa said, in her most pleasant tone of voice, “Hello, Jase. I was hoping I could get your expertise on something.”

“What the  _ fuck _ could you  _ possibly _ want.” It wasn’t a question, really- more of an aggressive statement that would have sent most of their guildmates running in fear.

Peesa bravely pressed on.

“Ysera came to me in the Emerald Dream a few minutes ago with a message that Nozdormu asked her to deliver.”

Jase looked at her skeptically, trying to decide whether or not this was actually worth being awake for. After a moment, she asked, “Are you just saying this to wake me up and stop me from chewing you out?”

Peesa threw up her hands. “Everyone is so suspicious of me! When have I  _ ever _ done that?”

“Kyir does that.”

“Kyir’s a little bitch and also braver than I am. Can I come in to talk about this with you?”

“How is he a little bitch  _ and _ braver?” Vyala asked, earning a sharp warning of “Language!” from them both. 

Jase reluctantly stepped out of the doorway to let Peesa in, shutting it rather harshly behind her and half-stumbling back to the bedroom. “Kyir. Get up.”

“Mrrrf.”

“You’re not even asleep.”

“Grrrrmf.”

“You haven’t slept in nearly two years.”

“Rrrrf.”

“You got  _ many years of sleep before then,  _ **_Kyir.”_ **

“Don’t fuckin’ care.”

“Kyir.”

“Nnnnf.”

“Just because you’re dead doesn’t mean you get to act like it.”

“Then what the hell is the  _ point?” _ Kyir demanded, the sound of movement telling Peesa that he probably sat up.

She made her way to the nearest chair that would support her weight and sat down.

“Watch your  _ fucking _ language, Vyala is here.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Fuck!” Vyala shouted proudly, making Peesa groan.

“You’re both terrible influences.”

“We know,” the elves chorused.

“I’m old enough to swear. I’m four.”

“That is  _ not _ old enough to swear.”

“I can say the fuck word if I want to.”

“The  _ what?” _ Kyir demanded, stepping into the room and rubbing his eyes as if he’d actually been asleep. The blue glow in her peripheral vision and the chill in the air made Peesa look up, noting that Kyir’s hair was not much better than Jase’s and feeling quietly victorious with the knowledge that, yes, he  _ did _ style it to make it look like that.

She’d just won a bet with Simora.

“The fuck word,” Vyala repeated.

“The fuck word.”

“Yes.”

“What the  _ hell _ does that mean?”

“Kyir,” Jase snapped. 

_ “What.” _

“Language.”

“She just said fuck!”

“Hell is a  _ rude fucking word!” _

“I have never, ever, in my entire life or undeath, given a single flying fuck, Jase.”

While Jase pulled a face at him, Vyala continued, “I heard Khalad whisper that when Jorus shouted about Deathwing attacking Wyrmrest.”

Peesa made a face. “I’d hoped you hadn’t heard that.”

“The fuck word,” Kyir repeated, falling into his favorite seat and crossing his arms. 

Peesa took a moment to look him over and frowned as he blew a stray black hair out of his eyes. “You’re not wearing a shirt.”

“I often don’t when I’m asleep, no.”

“You weren’t asleep.”

Kyir held a finger in front of his mouth and whispered  _ “Shut the fuck up,” _ earning an elbow from Jase and a laugh from Vyala.

Jase eventually convinced Kyir to put on  _ something _ and stole his chair, grinning mischievously as he stepped into the room with a blanket wrapped once around his torso and dragging on the floor like a sideways cape. He sighed and crossed his arms, causing the blanket to fall and Peesa to hold her face in her hands again.

“I’ve changed my mind. You don’t get to know about the dragons and how I think we’ve been given a quest.”

“Good. I want to go back to bed.” Jase stood up, only to be shoved out of the way as Kyir dove for his chair. She cheerfully sat down on him, pinning him in an uncomfortable position. She ignored his wiggling and whispers of “Jase. Jase, let me up. Jase, this  _ hurts” _ in favor of raising an eyebrow at Peesa.

Peesa cleared her throat and looked around to make sure that no one else was going to pull any more early-morning nonsense before continuing. “The dragons are sterile. Nozdormu thought that we needed to know about it.”

Dead silence.

“Oh,” Vyala whispered, wings slumping and drooping down her sides. “I…”

“Well, shit.” Jase leaned back in her seat, earning more protest from Kyir as he was pressed uncomfortably against the back of the chair. “That’s...bad.”

“That’s  _ really _ bad,” Kyir clarified, shoving an elbow into Jase’s back. “That’s… Given enough time, they’ll fade. With no new dragons to make up for the heavy losses they just took after all this Deathwing crap-”

“They’ll die,” Peesa supplied, feeling an awful shudder deep in her core. “And that’s why I need your help. There  _ has _ to be a way to fix this. If dragon fertility can just be switched off, then it  _ has _ to be able to be switched on again.”

“It happened right after the fall of Deathwing?” Jase moved slightly to let Kyir peer past her, allowing Peesa to see the calculating light in his eyes already showcasing the gears in his mind roaring into action. When she nodded, he continued, “There’s only two things I can think of here. One of them has to do with the, well, death of Deathwing, which sounds stupid but you get what I mean. I don’t think that’s it, though, because the dragons didn’t suffer any ill effects when Malygos was slain, other than the blues finding themselves without a leader.” He shifted and finally convinced Jase to get up and move, allowing him to sit up and run a thoughtful hand through his hair. “What’s a more likely cause is the fall of the Aspects themselves- they lost a lot of their power, if not all of it, and it’s not surprising that it’s affecting the dragons. What  _ is _ surprising is that it’s not just short-circuiting their powers and is bleeding into the reproductive aspect of things.”

Peesa shot a glance at Vyala, whose eyes looked a little glazed. “I thought the same thing. So, presumably, there’s a way to  _ fix _ this, right?”

“I wouldn’t say that. If it’s tied directly to the Aspects, and their power is totally gone, then there’s no fixing that.”

“Bad,” Jase repeated.

“Eloquent as always, my dear.”

“Shut your fuck, Kyir.”

Peesa cleared her throat. “This sounds like something that the right application of magic could fix.”

“Then the blues could handle it and Nozdormu wouldn’t have bothered letting you know.”

“Nature magic-”

“-can be handled by the reds.”

“Dammit, man, let me brainstorm in peace.”

“I’m  _ helpig,” _ Kyir protested. “You came to us for  _ help.” _

“I came to  _ Jase _ for help.”

“That’s not-”

“Be quiet, Kyir, she wants an expert.”

“You’re not an expert on anything except shooting things.”

“Maybe we need to shoot something.”

“I find that  _ highly _ unlikely.”

“We shot  _ Deathwing.” _

“Dragons not being able to have kids is  _ not _ the same as Deathwing.”

“I’m just saying that a lot of our problems can be solved by shooting things.”

“And the others?”

Peesa cleared her throat loudly and got a few guilty looks before she continued speaking.

“I wanted your help, Jase, but Kyir’s opinion is also welcome when he’s not interrupting me.”

Kyir crossed his arms moodily.

“I was hoping to take a trip to the Vermillion Redoubt with you two and ask the red dragons there some more specific questions about how it’s not working. I mean, they might not  _ know _ yet, as the only reason they’re  _ certain _ that they’re sterile is because the bronzes are sure-”

“So, what, we wait until they show symptoms of not laying eggs? It sounds like your primary symptom is not laying eggs.”

“Thank you, Kyir. I couldn’t deduce that myself.”

“Look. Waiting sounds stupid, as does going.”

“Then how do you propose we deal with this?”

“I don’t know! This is kind of a big job for two elves and a tauren before the sun is even up!” Kyir glared. 

“I like Peesa’s idea,” Vyala said quietly. “And I’d like to see some other red dragons. It’s been awhile.”

“It’s been a  _ year.” _

“She’s  _ four, _ Kyir.”

“Right, right. Sorry. With such adult words like  _ the fuck word _ I’d forgotten.”

Peesa looked at Jase, exasperated. “Is there  _ any _ time of day where he isn’t a sarcastic bastard?”

“No, unfortunately.”

“Then why did you marry him?”

“I’m an insufferable bitch. We’re perfect.”

“You’re a couple of assholes is what you are.” Peesa got to her feet. “I’ll let the rest of the guild know what’s going on so we can start brainstorming. We’ll take a trip to the Vermillion Redoubt in… let’s say a month. We’ll get a more specific idea of what’s going on and can work from there.”

“Sounds good,” Jase agreed. “And, Peesa?”

“Yes?”

“Let everyone else sleep in. Khalad’s eleven and needs all the sleep he can get to stop being a literal fetus.”

“You mean it’s unhealthy for a growing boy to be awoken before dawn almost every day for a month, and then again a week later?” Peesa held a hand to her chest. “I had no idea.”

“Get out of my house, Peesa, and take your stinky lizard with you.”

Vyala bristled. “I am  _ not _ stinky.”

“But you’re a lizard?”

“Fuck you!”

Peesa winked and strolled back outside, leaving Kyir and Jase to argue over the proper classification of a dragon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a much more serious fic than No, Officer, I've Never Seen That Dragon Before In My Life, but that doesn't mean that the characters aren't ridiculous and the dialogue isn't meant to be humorous.  
> I'm an angst/humor writer at heart. It's a combo that works.
> 
> In case it wasn't clear:  
> Peesa is a tauren druid. Jase is a blood elf hunter. Kyir is a blood elf (okay technically he's a high elf) death knight. Vyalastrasza is a crimson whelping and Jorus (who is briefly mentioned and will appear more next chapter) is a cobalt netherwing drake.
> 
> Next chapter we'll go see some dragons and figure out a bit more about what's going on. 
> 
> And don't worry, Alliance players. We'll get some of the Alliance involved soon enough, it just starts here with the Horde. ^^


	3. Chapter Two: Vermillion Redoubt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Peesa, Jorus, Kyir, and Jase go to the Vermillion Redoubt for information, then take a detour to Outland to check on Netherwing.

_ One month after the fall of Deathwing _

 

The sky over Vermillion Redoubt was not unfamiliar with the feeling of dragon wings, but the crackling energy coming off of Jorus’ cobalt hide as he drew nearer wasn’t the same as the usual red dragons. Peesa patted his neck fondly as he descended, slowing to meet the two red drakes that rose to meet them. Kyir and Jase slowed, as well, their mounts pulling into a hover behind Jorus. The distinctive stone clicking of Jase’s stone drake could be heard even over their wingbeats, while Kyir’s borrowed wyvern flew almost silently. Peesa didn’t have to turn around to know that he was still frowning about his current mount, but she had insisted that he not ride his skeletal gryphon or a loud mechanical contraption as both might offend the red dragons and it was bad enough that she was bringing a death knight at all.

“What is your business here?” one of the red drakes called, eyeing them suspiciously. His gaze fell on Kyir and his eyes narrowed. “You’d better have a good reason.”

“We are here to try and find a solution to the sterility of the dragons,” Peesa told him. At the look of surprise on the drake’s face, she added, “Ysera herself informed us and I believe we are meant to assist in this.”

The drakes exchanged glances. “Very well,” the first said, and they descended back towards the ground.

“That was welcoming,” Kyir mumbled, shifting in the saddle. 

“The fact that you’re in full plate armor with skull decorations is really not helping your situation any.”

“I’m traveling, so I’m in armor.”

“The skulls?”

“It’s an aesthetic that I’m required to uphold,” he sniffed.

Peesa shook her head and patted Jorus’ neck. “Let’s land.”

He snorted in agreement and descended, Jase and Kyir not far behind. Jorus landed evenly, flinching at the heavy landing that Jase’s stone drake always pulled off. Kyir’s wyvern landed without an issue and waited for him to get off before snorting and curling up on the ground. Jase’s stone drake lay down and shut its eyes, the distinctive stone  _ snick snick _ decisive in the air.

“I’d like to come along to hear what the reds have to say,” Jorus put in as Peesa climbed down from his back. “And I was wondering if we could swing down to the Dark Portal after this and check on the rest of Netherwing. I don’t know if this affecting us at all, but…”

Peesa smiled and nodded. “We can do that.”

They looked up as an adult red dragon loomed over them. She shifted into the form of a tall night elf, taller than Kyir but not quite matching Peesa, and nodded in greeting. “Welcome. May I ask why you are here?”

“Ysera has told us, at the request of Nozdormu, about the great sorrow of the dragons. I’m hoping that we can find a way to help.”

The dragon’s expression tightened into one of pain. “A noble cause, but I fear nothing may work. I… We’ve tried everything we can think of. Nothing works, and we can’t…” She swallowed a few times. “I’m sorry. I put off having my first clutch because of Deathwing, and now… now…”

“We’ll do what we can to help,” Jorus said gently. 

“Do you mind if we ask some specific questions? If we can isolate where things are going wrong, then…” Peesa trailed off as the red dragon nodded.

“No, that’s fine. What are your names? I’d like to know who’s helping me.”

They introduced themselves, earning a slow nod. She didn’t even pause when she glanced at Kyir, either not recognizing what he was or not caring. “I’m Ellastraza. I’m trained as a healer so I hope I can answer all of your questions.”

“Okay, Ellastrasza. What would you say the exact problem is? What’s causing the eggs to not be laid?”

“Well, they’re not being created as all, as far as we can tell.” She sounded frustrated. “The process gets started and then just...falls apart.”

Kyir’s head snapped up with interest. “The process gets started? The eggs begin to form, then destabilize?”

“I...suppose so, yes.”

“So the dragons aren’t exactly sterile, then, just incapable of producing eggs.” He began to pace, thinking. “So that tells me that their biological makeup hasn’t been changed at all. It’s most likely a magical or chemical imbalance causing this, although I doubt its a fix as simple as a dietary change or something similar.”

“Give me that in basic terms, Kyir,” Jorus said tiredly.

“The fall of the Aspects has shocked their systems and now something’s broken, but they’re not technically sterile.”

Ellastrasza’s face lit up. “So there is hope?”

“There has to be,” Peesa said grimly. “The dragons aren’t going down this easily.”

“Have you tried stabilizing the process with magic? Having a constant healing effect on the expecting mother at all times?”

“Yes and yes.”

“Hmm. Does every dragon experience this the same way? Do they always destabilize and not form, or do some get further?”

“As far as I know, they always fall apart at the same stage. They never even get to be visible or detectable by anything other than nature magic.” Her eyes swept downwards. “We can’t tell as much as we used to be able to, though. We’ve lost so much of our power…”

Kyir didn’t respond, continuing to pace and mumble to himself.

“What of the existing eggs?” Jase asked. “Were they okay?”

“Yes. Even broodmothers expecting eggs past the stage where everything goes wrong delivered them just fine. But all new batches…” She swallowed and blinked away tears.

Peesa slowly put a hand on her shoulder, pausing to let her pull away if need be. “This can be fixed. It  _ has _ to be. It sounds like an issue that can be corrected, with time. Don’t give up hope.”

“Don’t give up hope,” Ellastrasza echoed. “I can do my best, but…”

“Are you sure you’re getting enough in your diet to facilitate egg formation?” Jase asked. “Your magic may have been supplying some of what you needed.”

“I doubt it’s something so sim-” Kyir protested.

“I don’t care,” Jase interrupted. “It’s worth asking.”

“We should be, yes. I don’t think our magic provided anything, but I’ll see what I can do and report the results back.” 

Jorus’ tail lashed. “I don’t like this,” he mumbled. “This feels too...intentional.”

“Maybe it was. The dragons were engineered by the Titans. I wouldn’t be surprised if they put a failsafe in to keep them from breeding and potentially running rampant if the Aspects lost their Mantles and fell into corruption.” Peesa kicked at the ground.  _ “Damn _ them.”

Ellastrasza shivered. “So...if it was a Titan-made failsafe…”

“We can surpass it,” Kyir concluded, making Ellastrasza blink as that wasn’t what she was going to say  _ at all. _ “The Titans were, pretty obviously, imperfect. We made their messenger consider our world worth saving. We’ve repurposed and taken control of some of their machines. We  _ can _ surpass whatever this is.”

Ellastrasza smiled. “You give me hope,” she mumbled. “I didn’t expect to feel hopeful because of mortals and a nether drake. I’m grateful.”

Peesa smiled at her. “We’ll do everything we can to help. Kyir, is there anything else you wanted to ask?”

“No. I need some time to think about this. I’d like to hear back from Khalad about what the blues have to say before trying anything, as well.”

“And the insight of the other nether dragons may prove useful,” Jorus put in. “I’m curious to see whether or not we’ve been affected.”

Ellastrasza raised an eyebrow. “There’s a chance you haven’t?”

“We didn’t have an Aspect. We were disconnected from Deathwing when Draenor shattered into Outland, so I hope that means that we weren’t affected like the other dragonflights were.”

Ellastrasza looked thoughtful. “That would make sense to me. Would you be so kind as to let me know what you find out? You can send mail directly here.”

Peesa nodded. “Of course. If you need to contact us at all, just send mail addressed to one of us to Thunder Bluff. We pick up the guild’s mail there since we don’t have our own mailbox.”

Ellastrasza nodded. “I’ll keep you updated on the situation here. Thank you.”

They said their goodbyes and let Ellastrasza walk off before Peesa turned back to the others.

“Kyir, Jase. Are you going to accompany us to Outland?”

“No,” Jase replied immediately. “I’m  _ not _ a fan and you like to fly over the Twisting Nether. Hell no.”

“I would, but I’m supposed to return my wyvern before we’d get back.” Kyir frowned at it.

“You could ride on my back,” Jorus offered. “Peesa can fly herself.”

“And do all that hard work?”

Jorus shot her a look and she grinned innocently.

“I can take the wyvern back,” Jase added. “I’ll go back to home base once I’ve dropped it off and compare notes with Khalad once he’s back. Hopefully the blues have more information.”

“Hopefully,” Kyir echoed. “Okay, fine, into the dragon saddle I go.”

“Don’t sound so reluctant.”

“Peesa’s saddle is too big for me.”

“I’ll try not to do a loop,” Jorus promised, bending his legs to let Kyir scramble onto his back. Jase climbed up onto the stone drake and whistled for the wyvern to follow. 

Peesa shifted into her bird form and took off, brown feathered wings leading the way as Jorus threw himself into the air behind her.

~~~

Eventually, the awful red of the Blasted Lands came into view. 

“Just ahead!” Peesa cawed, eyes quickly picking up on the rising figure of the Dark Portal. Kyir gripped the front of the saddle tighter. 

“You’re going to do something stupid, aren’t you?!” Kyir shouted.

“Define stupid!” Jorus called back.

“Diving at terminal velocity through the Dark Portal!”

“Hell yeah!”

“Why?!”

Jorus didn’t grace that with a response, instead putting on more speed to keep up with Peesa as the ground sped on below. “How fast are we taking this?”

“As fast as you want,” Peesa clicked her beak in an imitation of a smile, eyes glittering in a challenge.

“Hold on, Kyir, this is about to get crazy.”

“It’s  _ been _ crazy!” Kyir tugged at his cloak to make sure the parachute installed within was still there and  _ hopefully _ functional before holding on as tightly as he could and lowering his body to reduce drag. 

Jorus flashed a grin at Peesa and sped ahead, eyes locked on the swirling vortex within the Dark Portal’s frame. Peesa strained her wings to keep up, but eventually fell behind.

“Hold on!”

“I am!”

Jorus folded his wings and dove, speeding past the forms of the guards and through the portal itself. The world vanished, leaving them in darkness for a brief second, before they shot out the other side. Jorus extended his wings and swept upwards into the skies of Hellfire Peninsula, roaring in victory as familiar winds rose under his wings.

“I feel sick and I’m  _ dead!” _ Kyir shouted.

Jorus only laughed, turning to circle in a wide arc and watch for Peesa. A brown form shot out of the portal seconds later, sweeping upwards at the sight of him and soon joining him in his lazy circles overhead.

“That was incredible! Why don’t you go that fast when I’m on your back?”

“Kyir is considerably smaller than you are and I’m usually tired from fighting.” Jorus shrugged a shoulder, shifting the saddle. He craned his neck as far around as he could. “You alright back there?”

Kyir only groaned.

“Good enough for me.” Jorus changed directions and headed south, Peesa flying alongside him. 

“Do you need to rest before we cross over the Twisting Nether?”

“Probably. My wings hurt from that and could do with a few hours’ rest.”

“I could do with a lot longer than that,” Kyir mumbled. “I’m  _ never _ getting on your back again. I’m taking a wyvern to Shattrath and going through the portal back to Orgrimmar the  _ moment _ we’re done here.”

“It wasn’t  _ that _ bad.”

“Unless I’m in control of what crazy flying stunts are happening, I don’t like it!”

Jorus snorted. “Baby.”

Peesa laughed- a bizarre sound in her bird form, reminiscent of an arakkoa- and continued to fly, aiming for the Netherwing Ledge and the dragons that awaited them there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get ready for me to make up literally everything about Netherwing and what happened to them because Blizzard has decided that they're not worth the time of day, featuring my headcanons about nether dragons and the black dragons in Outland.


End file.
